


breathe

by kiyala



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-06 16:45:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3141569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras hates exam periods, especially for what they do to Combeferre.</p>
            </blockquote>





	breathe

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a gift to [panicatthebarricades](http://panicatthebarricades.tumblr.com/) for [merry misfest](http://panicatthebarricades.tumblr.com>panicatthebarricades</a>%20for%20<a%20href=)!

Enjolras hates exam period. He hates everything about it: the stress, the way each day feels so drawn out and yet too short at the same time, the guilt that comes with doing anything that doesn't involve studying. He hates the exams themselves too, not the slightest bit convinced that it's a fair way of measuring what they've learned and how much they remember without even seeing if they can actually apply any of it in practice, or if they know _how_ to. 

Most of all, beyond any of his personal issues with exams and the uncomfortable weeks of limbo that they bring with them, Enjolras absolutely hates exam period for what it does to Combeferre.

Ask anyone who has met him or even just listened to him speak for five minutes, and they will undoubtedly say that Combeferre is _incredibly_ intelligent. His background knowledge on any given topic is thorough and his arguments are always clearly thought out. He is a man of conviction, who doesn't argue for something unless he wholeheartedly believes in it and yet he's flexible, always willing to learn, happy to listen to people telling him that he's wrong, provided that they can provide sufficient evidence to back their claims. He is, y most people's assumptions, the perfect scholar and his marks might reflect as much, but Enjolras is one of the few people who know just how wrong that is.

Nothing terrifies Combeferre quite as easily as the thought of failure. It immobilises him, turns his thoughts into white noise and makes it difficult for him to do what he needs to, which only serves to make matters worse. Enjolras has seen it happen and he knows how much Combeferre hates it, how much he hates _himself_ for letting it get to him in the first place. Enjolras approaches all of his friends in a similar manner. He wants them to have the best of everything, the best experiences, the best of society, the best of life. For Combeferre, specifically, he wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around his friend and protect him from the worst the world can throw at him, the worst that his own mind can come up with. He knows that it's both impractical and unwelcome, but it makes exam periods that much more frustrating, when he can see Combeferre struggling and knows that at best, he can hold the thoughts at bay until they return later.

—«·»—

When Enjolras walks out of his room in the afternoon, needing a break from memorising case studies, he finds Combeferre sitting at the dining table with his notes spread out around him and his head in his hands. With a quiet sigh, Enjolras makes his way to the kitchen and starts the coffee machine. It hasn't been very long since lunch, but Enjolras needs the caffeine and more importantly, he needs the calmness that comes with the ritual of making the coffee itself.

Combeferre doesn't acknowledge Enjolras' presence, either because he doesn't notice or because he's too wrapped up in his own thoughts. Enjolras leaves him be, making a mug of coffee for him too and walking over to the dining table.

Enjolras puts the mug down by Combeferre's elbow and touches his shoulder lightly to get his attention. "Hey."

Startling, Combeferre looks up, adjusting his skewed glasses. "Oh. Hey, Enjolras. I'm sorry, I didn't notice you—"

"It's fine," Enjolras assures him with a small smile. "I made you some coffee. I need a break from my work. Do you want to join me?"

Combeferre looks back at his notes, pursing his lips. "I'd better not. I really need to keep studying."

Enjolras knows better to push. He simply nods in reply. "Okay. I'm going to sit on the couch with my coffee for a while, should you happen to change your mind."

Enjolras glances at the time, deciding that he's going to allow himself a half hour break. He doesn't particularly want to do anything other than sit and not think about his exams for a moment. He shuts his eyes, sipping at his coffee. He opens his eyes when he hears Combeferre clear his throat. He looks up, finding Combeferre walking over with his coffee.

"You don't mind if I sit…?"

Enjolras smiles. "Of course not."

Combeferre takes a deep breath and sits down, his side pressed against Enjolras from shoulder to thigh. Enjolras turns to him with surprise, but responds by wrapping his arm around Combeferre's shoulder, keeping it there. Combeferre leans into him with a shaky sigh and Enjolras _knows_ that this is bad. He's a tactile person himself, but Combeferre is not. He keeps to himself, doesn't appreciate people coming into his personal space, no matter how close they might be to him. For him to actively seek contact means that he's incredibly stressed. 

"I'm sorry," Combeferre murmurs, his grip on his coffee mug tightening. "I'm just…"

"You don't have to apologise," Enjolras replies gently. "You know that."

Combeferre nods, relaxing slightly as Enjolras places a hand over his and squeezes. Turning his hand over, he links his fingers with Enjolras' and shuts his eyes.

"I'm fine most of the time. It's just when I'm sitting there, going over all of this information in my head, I'll have the stray thought of, _what if I can't remember this when I'm in the exam hall_? And then things get bad."

Enjolras doesn't tell Combeferre that he'll be fine, because he knows that won't help. Instead, he wraps his arm around Combeferre a little tighter and takes a deep breath before exhaling slowly, then does it again until Combeferre breathes with him. 

"But right now, when you're not in an exam hall, you know what you need to, don't you?" Enjolras asks.

"I do, but that's not the problem. I'm just… scared, I guess." Combeferre laughs shakily. "That's all it ever is. I'm _scared_ and it's a ridiculous thing to be tripping myself up over every single time, and I wish that being aware of it could make it go away, but it never does. Even if I _do_ remember everything I need in a test, it's always that fear of that I won't next time, and it's suffocating."

Enjolras puts his mug on the coffee table and takes Combeferre's, putting it down too. He pulls Combeferre into his arms, which is a little difficult when Enjolras is smaller than him, but Combeferre goes willingly, hugging Enjolras in return. 

"I wish I could make this go away," Enjolras whispers, and he's never meant anything more in his entire life. He guides Combeferre's head to rest on his shoulder. "But the best that I can do is be here when you need me, to talk about it, to _not_ talk about it if that's what you want instead. To remind you that you're not going through this alone and that I believe in you, even when you don't."

Sucking in a shaky breath, Combeferre nods, his chin digging into Enjolras' shoulder. "That's all I need. That's more than I could ever ask of you."

"Well, you have me," Enjolras tells him. "And the rest of our friends, too. We're here."

Their break can go for longer than half an hour, Enjolras decides. They can stay here, with their arms around each other, until Combeferre's hands stop shaking, until his breath evens out again. They can stay here for longer, if that's what Combeferre wants. Enjolras is flexible, and he's happy to do whatever he can.


End file.
